Home coming

The man who came back

Where did this inner rage come from?

This rage that has dominated my life for nearly every one of my 69 years.

I thought that lurking in my past was something huge,

Something so god awful I ran forever

and never escaped.

Close, close, but it wasn’t one,

It was betrayal built on betrayal,

and I recall now where it began,

A helpless child and a very poorly mother,

Finding himself, with his older brother,

in a children’s home with not a moments warning,

His entire life disappeared in a moment

and no clue as to why or for how long

perhaps forever

The cruelty began immediately

no rhyme or reason

A rage that the staff directed at the newcomers

a rage that found vent in mindless cruelty,

A child never consulted

never informed

without his permission

prisoner of bastards

Such that we swore one day,

to return and burn the place to the ground

and eradicate those who set the goats on me,

for wetting the bed in my terror

And so it began

returning home restored to our mother

Like breathing again after holding our breath for so long.

Next came school, at 5 I was already a story writer

pieces in the infant school magazine.

So why Miss Crabb did you drive the words from my tiny frame?

teach me to fear your mean minded, pointless spite

killed my writing

We later learnt that, without our father, locked in an asylum

so ill with schizophrenia he didn’t even know his own name

We became pariahs, bastards in all but reality

victims of brutal animals of post Victorian ignorance

It continued into junior school

Mr Ryan who flew into blinding rages

Throwing my books about the class

“What is this BOY?

Willy nilly, slip shod, do it again,

do it again!”

To similar accolades

11 years of school

a prisoner of a system of ignorance.

Without our consent

11 years of betrayal

11 years to break us for the factory

taught that that was all we were worth

11 years to break the minds of precious children

to becomes economic slaves for life

That, that!

Betrayal every day year in year out.

until betrayal fired the killing rage as I grew older

and it grew ever harder to contain

so I buried it

and mostly I was safe.

unless someone betrayed me

went behind my back

attempted to manipulate me for their own ends

then the rage rose

the killer left the haven of forgetfulness

Eyes like granite, killer eyes

heart like adamant, one desire

to eradicate.

All these long years I have fought the beast that lurks

until after nearly dying, I saw again

and wept for the joy of that dear small boy who grew to be me

How immeasurably strong he was

dear child

Unimaginable to my adult eyes heart and and mind

and I loved him, broke for him

held him properly for the first time

you dear child, you’re safe now

we are home together

alive at last




For a new journey

a miraculous second chance

side by side

alive with joy

happy and together at last

when I, the man, least expected it

I am grateful beyond words

A life restored by love


to sing


One thought on “Home coming

  1. Embracing our Inner Child, parenting them even decades later the way we wished it had been, is such a healing moment. Seeing our innocent selves pushed and prodded into square holes when our round little selves just wanted to create endlessly and be curious about everything. What a sad state of affairs. The way we were made to obey, punished when we didn’t do as we were told, and then scolded if we objected in any way. It was an endless oppression/suppression that cut our childhood short and made us automatons … until one day, whenever it comes, we see the Light and it manages to shine on all those things and yet we almost unbelievably learn to forgive, or to see that it was our sovereign choice to follow those paths until we created a new one. It was how we came to this moment, today, in peace and harmony with ourselves. It is truly wondrous! xoxo

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: